


Good To Me

by Punk_Slime



Category: The Shining (1980)
Genre: Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, another homewrecking reader sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:34:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Punk_Slime/pseuds/Punk_Slime
Summary: Dirty motel room hookups with Jack is probably as good as it gets.
Relationships: Jack Torrance/Reader
Kudos: 12





	Good To Me

Jack had never really been a patient man. Especially not when it came to waiting to get to you. If you’d planned to meet up at a motel, he was always first to arrive, and was always hellbent on getting you undressed. You’d never even been late, he was just… very enthusiastic about your meetups. 

On rare occasions, he’d pick you up while you were walking home from work. These occasions almost always meant he’d get too worked up before you could even make it to a motel. Quickies in the backseat didn’t happen often. Despite his eagerness, he was genuinely cautious. For the most part. 

So, considering how unlike him it was to be late, you had to assume something had gone wrong. Rod Serling’s voice indicated another show had started without you. Not even TV could get your mind off of the worst case scenario. No matter how hard you tried to focus your eyes on the screen, they’d tear themselves away every few minutes to lock onto the door, and then the heavy curtains that blocked out the window and any light it would have let in. 

An hour passes. Then two. The only comfort you had was knowing the room had been paid for ahead of time, for the night. You wouldn’t have to go on your walk of shame alone and unfulfilled just yet. 

The soft buzzing from the TV lulls you to sleep without you even noticing. A lock clicks somewhere, it takes you a moment to realize where you are. You sit up just as Jack walks in the door. 

“Hey, you,” you offer, sleep evident in your voice.

He locks the door behind him and drops his coat on the little wooden chair in the corner of the room. The bags under his eyes are darker than usual, and he doesn’t look like he’s in the mood to chat. Wendy must have had a few questions for him when he got home today. No sense in prodding.

Not that he gives you any time to do so. Once he’s pulled his boots off, he’s climbing into bed overtop of you. 

You cup his cheek, but he can’t even leave that as is. He snatches your wrist and pins it to the bed, his other hand snakes down to grab your hip. He looks like he wants to say something, but he interrupts himself by lowering his head closer to your neck. His mouth overs just above your throat for a moment before he sinks his teeth into the flesh of your shoulder.

“J-ack,” you hiss, squeezing your eyes shut.

To his credit, he does seem to feel a little bad, as he immediately covers the mark in gentle kisses. They turn sloppy fairly quickly. This time when he bites you, he starts at the collarbone and works his way up to the space just below your jaw. He’s getting hard already, you can keep him pressed against your thigh, even though his jeans. 

“You're so good to me…” his voice is quiet but it’s still as gravelly as ever. 

He’s fiddling with the button of your jeans, then your fly. It doesn’t seem to take him very long at all to start tugging at your waistband. You try to help pull them off, but he sits up and yanks your hips up toward his face, and suddenly you’re missing not only your jeans but your underwear too, discarded to the floor before you even notice they’re gone. 

“Y/N,” he hums, and it still manages to sound more like a growl than anything. 

He isn’t expecting a response really, he drags his tongue up your cunt. Your legs hang over his shoulders and he supports you with a hand on your ass and the other on the small of your back. 

Usually when the two of you met up, it went almost exactly like this. It didn’t always escalate this quickly though. Release was obviously his main goal at the moment, but at least he was still courteous enough for a little foreplay. 

In between short flicks of his tongue over your clit, he’d press his tongue against the entirety of your pussy and slip the very tip of his tongue inside. It made you shudder and twitch without fail. 

Once he decided his chin was sufficiently slick, he moved back and let you drop onto the bed in front of him. He’d already unbuckled his belt by the time you realized what had happened. His jeans only managed to get pulled down just below his hips before he pulled his cock out of his boxers. There was no way you could keep up with his urgency, and he didn’t really seem to mind picking up the pace for you. 

He grabs your hips hard enough to bruise, and breathes in as he prepares to push into you, allowing just enough time to prepare yourself mentally for it seeing as you’ve been playing catch up since he’d walked through the door. He hisses and hunches over you and in the moment the pressure is almost too much. Luckily he doesn’t stay still for long, and as he starts to roll his hips into yours the pressure melts into a building, tingling feeling.

You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, and bite your lip hard as you feel his nails dig into your hips. Now that he’s sure you can take it, he’s mercilessly slamming into you, panting and groaning. 

“F-u-uck,” you whimper, desperately trying to move your hips opposite to his own, to mixed results. 

It’s getting sloppy fast, but he’s focussed, his thrusts are purposeful. However, it’s fair to say based on how scrunched up his face is they won’t be for much longer. As you feel the peak of your climax nearing, he buries his face into your shoulder, and the tickling feeling of his breath and his chest pressed to yours is just the extra push needed to send you over the edge. Your hips snap up before your body from the waist down falls into a fit of twitches and trembling. It’s difficult to keep your arms up even with his added support.

Between his groaning you can hear your name and a string of expletives, and suddenly his rhythm starts to sputter before he pulls out just in time to shoot on your stomach.

The air is dense with the smell of sweat and the looming concern of what comes next as the two of you come down. He doesn’t collapse onto you, but he does pull you into his side when he finally falls onto his back next to you.

You don’t need to talk about it. This is, for all intents and purposes, the extent of your relationship. The intricacies of his marriage or his job or life outside the shitty motel rooms in general weren’t your business.

From what you can tell, he likes it that way. If this is the only way you can have him, you like it too.


End file.
